


Team Player

by Sethrine



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Banter, Betrayal, Bonding, Comfort, Cramps, Experimentation, F/M, Fights, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Meditation, Menstruation, Morning After, Multi, New Recruit - Freeform, Parent!Reader - Freeform, Past, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Post-Mission, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy, Revelations, Romantic Fluff, Sassy, Scars, Sick!Reader, Silly, Smut, Sweet, Teasing, Unplanned Pregnancy, Werewolf Jesse McCree, fears, mentor, self-care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-09-07 14:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethrine/pseuds/Sethrine
Summary: A Collection of Overwatch fics and snippets I've written on Tumblr.Angst, fluff, smut, and everything in-between.::Newly Added::14. McCree returns home from a mission and is all too happy to lay beside you once again.15. You think you've come down with the sickness that has been circulating all the members of Overwatch. You, Jesse, and Hanzo soon find out the real reason behind your nausea.16. You wake up to the memory of your first intimate night with McCree. When he begins to wake up, you become playful, and the morning is looking a bit more heady. (slight NSFW)17. Restless and very much pregnant, you decide to go on a stroll through the woods. You run into Jesse, who was on patrol with the pack. When you both return home, he suggests making dinner, himself, to give you a moment of peace.18. You and Gabriel enjoy a cozy evening with warm cider and the coming storm. (Male!Reader)





	1. Much Obliged - Jesse McCree/Reader

**Author's Note:**

> Old to me, new to you!! Fics and snippets I've written over on Tumblr for various Overwatch characters!
> 
> Starting it off right with some cowboy lovin'!
> 
> Enjoy, you guys!

Jesse had been more than thrilled to share your evening together outside, the both of you relaxing out on a blanket and looking out at the star speckled sky above. He had even brought a half-empty bottle of whiskey, of which you indulged in just until there was warmth lingering in your stomach and the smallest feeling of floating in your head.

You’d had many nights like this with the mercenary, the mostly quiet, comfortable company welcoming to your often reeling mind. It was a time where there was no fighting, no expectations, just the companionship of someone you held dearly within your heart. If his attempts at flirting and endearing, out-of-the-blue compliments were anything to go by, he had the same appreciation for you.

Smiling, you looked over at McCree, who was finishing off the last bit of a cigar, the smoke swirling into the air with his exhale. He had the barest hint of a smile on his scruffy face while looking up at the stars, eyes moving slowly while chasing lines and patterns of constellations he had eagerly pointed out to you on several occasions. After a moment, he looked to you as if aware of your staring, his smile brightening considerably.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You gave a quiet hum, finding your own smile coming out to match his.

“Kiss me.”

He chuckled at your forwardness, possibly thinking your request to be playful, insincere.

“I’m thinkin’ you had too much to drink.”

“You said that last time,” you scoffed, though your smile remained. “I’m thinking you just don’t want to.”

“Trust me, darlin’, I want to. Ain’t like I can lie about it, anymore. Can’t have you regrettin’ it when you finally sober up.”

“Even if I was drunk, which I’m _not_ ,” you began, earning another quiet chuckle, “I doubt highly that I’d regret it. Besides, it’s not like I have anyone to compare you to, so that would be a plus in your book.”

Your words were meant to be teasing and light, a possible jab at his skill, of which you had no doubt was excellent. McCree’s expression changed with your words, however, his smile turning into more of a confused frown as he stared at you in both disbelief and wonder.

“You tellin’ me you never…?”

“Can’t say I’ve had the best opportunity,” you said, shrugging your shoulders while turning your gaze to the sky, “and it doesn’t help that the one person I’d actually _like_ to kiss keeps telling me I’m wasted. Seriously, two swigs isn’t enough to-”

Your words caught in your throat as McCree’s presence suddenly surrounded you, warm palm cupping your jaw and turning your attention to him as the cool metal of his prosthetic caressed the side of your neck. His smile was back, as was his usual teasing attitude.

“I’d be much obliged to be your first.”

You had no time to argue his choice of words, not when his lips were so smoothly enveloping your own. The sensation alone had your whole body tingling from the simple point of contact, a quiet gasp leaving you at the sensation. Jesse took advantage of the part in your lips, his tongue entering and caressing yours with gentle strokes. He tasted of the smoke and vanilla from his cigar, the slightest bit of whiskey from the few swigs he’d had much earlier. Already, you were addicted, couldn’t even imagine any other kiss afterward being half as good as this one.

When you both pulled away, it wasn’t very far. You leaned against him, foreheads touching, lips just barely brushing each other, as if teasing for an encore.

“So…you wanna, maybe, be my second kiss, too?”

He chuckled once more at your cheeky request, swooping in to relive the moment, shortly after.


	2. Help on the Comedown - Jack Morrison/Gabriel Reyes/Reader

It was always a hit or miss sort of thing, something you couldn’t really expect, and something you certainly couldn’t control.

For whatever reason, it happened during the debriefing. You were fine before that, even taking the time to laugh at a joke Lúcio had told you and even setting up for one of your own before Winston began going over the details of the mission you had just returned from. Everything went as planned; the mission had been a success, no casualties, and just a few scrapes and bumps that were easily tended to on the field. Honestly things couldn’t have gone smoother.

That, apparently, didn’t matter.

It started out as a tingling sensation along your scalp, uncomfortable and foreboding. You ignored it, not thinking much about the first of many warning signs you had experienced not even a handful of times. When your body began to slowly heat up, however, you began to realize what was happening to you.

In the span of five more minutes, you had broken out in a cold sweat, body feeling overheated despite your lack of activity. The walls felt as if they were closing in on you, moving each time you took in a breath, pulsating with every beat of your heart, and it was all you could do to keep each inhale steady. Your leg had taken to bouncing up and down in place, the movement rapid and the only thing keeping you in your seat for the moment. You couldn’t even hear what Winston was saying anymore, you were so focused on trying to keep calm, keep your breathing steady, just wait it out, wait it out, _just wait it out-_

A firm hand at your jittering leg stopped its movement, causing a chain reaction throughout your body. Your lungs seized, feeling too tight in your chest, nearly choking you with the pressure accumulating there, and the sweat along your body began to prickle, like tiny needles embedding into your skin. Hands, clammy and shaking, took hold of the offending wrist attached to the too-warm palm on your knee, and you nearly shot out of your chair, if only to keep yourself from feeling too trapped.

You turned to your suppressor, only to find a visibly concerned Jack looking at you, and it was all you could do not to burst into tears.

He was out of his chair before you even realized what he was planning, pulling you to stand and ushering you away from the table. Words were said, none of which registered to you, though you could feel eyes on your back, even with Jack’s body blocking you from view, and you couldn’t stop the sob that left your lips and rattled your ribcage almost painfully.

When you were out of the conference room and in the hallway, the air felt cooler, lighter. Breathing would have been significantly easier, had the damage not been done. You were gasping for breath you couldn’t seem to take in quick enough, and though the walls weren’t closing in any longer, the corridor had taken to spinning with every move of your wandering eyes, even as Jack grounded you by keeping your back against the wall, hands at your shoulders.

“I got you,” he said, voice a bit panicky as his hands moved to cup your face. “Look at me. I got you. He’s coming. I got you.”

He kept talking for a long minute, kept encouraging you to breathe, ensuring you he was right there, wiping at your tears and shushing your sobs gently, but you still couldn’t catch your breath, and everything still felt _wrong_.

After another moment, you were being maneuvered yet again, though this time, your back was to Jack’s front, and firm hands, much cooler than Jack’s own had been, were at your cheeks. You reached up and grasped at chilled forearms, eyes focusing on a familiar face in your line of site.

“Breathe,” Gabriel spoke, voice low and scratchy and resonating with you in a way you couldn’t explain. You took in a deep breath, nearly choking at the haste of doing so. Arms were around your waist, one circling higher and pulling you even more to Jack’s chest.

“Like before, _mi luz_. Breathe with Jack, just like we practiced. Breathe with Jackie. Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

It took you a moment to find focus, but you could feel the exaggerated push of Jack’s chest at your back, could hear the way he breathed through his nose and let out the same breath slowly through his mouth, just as Gabe instructed. You tried to keep focus on the movement, the methodical slow push and pull of his chest against you aiding the process just as much as Gabriel’s deep timbre.

After several minutes, your breathing fell into rhythm with the old soldier’s own, and things began to feel normal in small increments. Your skin cooled considerably, and you realized just how chilly the air in the base truly was when all you’d felt before was prickling fire. The corridor had stopped spinning, and though there was a distinct ringing in your ears that was quickly dissipating, things were no longer muffled.

What remained of your anxiety attack was the small tremors in your limbs and the horrible embarrassment that accompanied the comedown.

“There we go. You did so well coming out of it, this time,” Gabriel praised, fingers threading through your hair in a comforting gesture.

“I still feel so…so stupid,” you confessed, wiping at your eyes and giving a weak laugh. “I don’t understand why it just…happened like that. Everything was fine.”

“You’ve been stressed lately,” Jack chimed in lightly, one arm remaining around you as the other moved to rub at your back, the warmth if his palm much more soothing than before. The deep inhale and exhale you let out shortly after felt incredibly to your frayed system.

“Take it from Jack. He used to get attacks like these once every few weeks. Stress eats away at you, and being Strike Commander wasn’t helping him any. Even on good days, the damage was still there, and in those like him, like you, it tends to be too much.”

“Luckily for us,” Jack spoke, scarred lips kissing at your hair briefly, “we have someone like Gabe who can bring us back down.”

“Yeah, lucky us,” you joked, smiling despite yourself as you leaned into Gabe, who had taken to running his fingers through your hair again. It was quiet for a long while after, the comfort of both your partners surrounding you easing what tremors were left from your anxiety attack.

“If you want, Angela could prescribe you medication to lessen your attacks, should they get too bad,” Jack mused aloud. “Never could take it, myself, because of SEP, but you might benefit from it.”

“I’ll…I’ll think about it,” you said.

“Just throwing out ideas,” Jack said. “Don’t want you to suffer like I did.”

“I know,” you voiced lightly, smiling against Gabe’s shoulder. “It sucks, but I’ve got you both to help me through it.”

“Damn right, you do,” Gabriel rasped, placing a kiss of his own into your hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading! Let me know what you think!!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	3. Take Care - Junkrat/Reader (NSFW)

It wasn’t often you were able to have Junkrat beneath you like you had him now, what with your schedule being unpredictable at best and Jamie being sent on longer missions, ensuring to keep the both of you apart for long periods of time. It was agonizing, sometimes, but it made the reunion all the sweeter.

Such was the case when you both met in the kitchen to your home, the lanky Junker buzzing with excited energy and nearly jumping out of his skin in delight at the first touch of your hand against his bare shoulder. He’d cleaned up a bit, it looked like, and had even gone as far as removing any weapons from his person as well as the harness usually strapped around his currently soot-free chest.

You had made idle chat as you coaxed him to the bedroom with a gentle pull to his boney wrist, getting him to babble endlessly about his time away as you made work of carefully removing his prosthetics, an honor in trust you had worked endlessly to achieve and was rewarded time and again for it. What little clothing he wore went next, and then he was babbling for a whole different reason.

That had been nearly an hour ago. Now, he was trembling beneath you, single hand fisted in the bed covers above his head, right where you told him to leave it. You’d given the order of no talking, though you encouraged any and all noises, knowing full well that completely silencing Jamie was near impossible. He could do this, though, keening noises of anticipation as you kissed down his abdomen, pausing at his navel and biting over it gently. He gave out a choked gasp, hips lifting at the spike of pleasure and hand twisting even harder into the comforter beneath him.

You cooed at him gently, letting him ride out the wave of excitement by allowing a few arrant thrusts into your slick hand. He was hot and heavy in your grasp, as he had been for some time. The head of his cock was nearly a dark shade of purple, dribbling with a pent-up release you had yet to allow. The build-up was half the fun, and though your focus was solely on Junkrat’s pleasure, you were enjoying yourself immensely.

With a thoughtful hum, you moved further down and pressed the flat of your tongue against the ruddy tip.

Junkrat gave a shout as his back bowed at the sudden pleasure. He began speaking without much thought, words slurred almost drunkenly and voice cracking in desperation.

“P-please, lovey, I need it! Need it, _f-fuck_ …feels so good! S’too much, not…not enough, c’mon, please!”

You pulled away instantly at the first few words, hand stilling at the base of his cock with the lightest hold, free hand coming up to pin his hips down. His thighs were trembling on either side of you even before his whine at the lack of stimulation.

“Someone’s not following orders,” you sing-songed lightly, noting how his hand flexed above him and the way his flushed and sweaty chest rose and fell with each labored breath. He gave another whine, mouth opening and closing a few times as if fighting the very need to speak up, beg you for your touch. He settled on keeping his words to himself with another keening sound, thighs still shaking something fierce on either side of you as the onset of tears began beading the corners of his eyes.

“So good for me, Jamie,” you praised, rewarding him with the wet slide of your mouth nearly halfway down his length. His shout of surprise was expected, as was the garbled attempt at fighting back his words as you continued to take him in further. You hummed your delight, knowing the vibrations would very nearly do him in. The final straw was the bite of your fingernails into the softness of his thighs as you swallowed around him fully, Junkrat practically screaming with his release.

You were hyper aware of his sensitivity, nearly as much as he was. His body shuddered, muscles jumping with the aftereffects of his orgasm. You gently brushed your hands along his body, giving gentle praises as he came down from his high. When he was more aware of himself, Junkrat looked to you with a dopey grin.

“Was good, yeah?”

“Of course,” you replied, leaning down to pepper small kisses along his face, of which had the lithe man giggling lightly. “You’re always good for me, Jamie.”

On your third pass around his face, he caught your lips with his own, engaging in a sweet kiss that made your heart soar with how much you adored this crazy man. If his manic giggles and bright amber eyes gazing up at you were anything to go by, you were sure he adored you, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	4. Leave and Return - Jesse McCree/Reader

It was a guarantee that unexpected things would happen when you and Jesse joined the newly reformed Overwatch.

Things were different, or so the cowboy had told you, from when Overwatch was a predominant entity. You’d been with him for two years by the time Winston gave him the call, and he agreed to come back, so long as you could tag along. Your skills had quickly proved useful and effective in aiding the group, and for five blissful months, you worked alongside some of the best, most fantastic heroes you ever had the chance of meeting and pleasure of calling your friends.

And then came that test, and suddenly, you were terrified.

Of all the unexpected things you had anticipated, getting pregnant was definitely not one of them, but it was certainly the most startling. Everything you had worked towards suddenly seemed too dangerous to continue, and though you knew you would be in the safest hands possible, the thought of you weighing the team down, of tying Jesse down without proper planning or warning, made your stomach churn unpleasantly.

That alone was enough to sway your decision, leaving behind no trace of your presence having been in the base, save for a simple note to McCree.

_Jesse, I can’t say when, but I’ll come back to you. Wait for me._

You recalled the words you left on that clean sheet of paper clearly as you gently cooed down at your daughter, rocking her back and forth slowly in your arms. Her wide, nearly honey-brown eyes were on you, toothless smile flashing every once in a while as she babbled at your hushed words.

She was such a marvel, your little girl. Her hair was already so thick and was the same color as her father’s own unruly locks and soft to the touch. She was soft all over, really, with rosie little cheeks and pudgy little rolls on her arms and legs. She was beautiful, and the more she grew, the more she began looking like Jesse, from the shape of her nose to the crooked little half-grin she often gave you.

God, but you had missed him terribly.

The door to the room you had been sitting in for roughly half an hour slid open suddenly. When you turned, your eyes met those of wide, disbelieving honey-brown. For a long moment, you stared at the man staring back at you, taking in his appearance, the way his hat was tilted just slightly more to the right, how his tanned skin was just a bit darker than usual due to getting more sun during the summer months.

Jesse looked just as good as you had left him.

You leapt up from the bed, lips parting to say something, anything, but the words were caught in your throat. Your daughter babbled out gleefully as she reached for your hair, tiny hands grabbing hold of the loose strands and tugging. The movement as well as the dainty sounds caught McCree’s attention, and if it were possible, you were sure his eyes would have widened even more.

“Sugar…sweetheart, I….”

“I’m sorry,” you finally blurted out in a rush, feeling your insides twist both pleasantly and painfully at the loving nicknames he called you without hesitance. “I’m so sorry, Jesse, I just…I didn’t know what to do! It wasn’t exactly planned, but I couldn’t make you…I couldn’t just expect you to-”

You were silenced by the warm, eager press of lips against your own, having been unaware of Jesse’s approach as you struggled to find the words to explain your actions. It had been a long year without his touch, and you practically melted against the palm of his hand now pressing sweetly against your cheek. When you finally pulled away from each other, it was with a breathy giggle and tears in your eyes.

“Shit, sugar, ’m glad you’re alright. Didn’t have a right clue as to why you’d up and leave like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, quickly being silenced with several more kisses.

“You’re here now, ain’t ya? That’s all that matters.”

Your daughter gave a sudden excited squeal, your attention moving to her. She was staring up at Jesse curiously, wide eyes taking in his appearance as she continued to gently tug at your hair with one of her clenched fists.

A look of wonder and awe crossed his face, and you knew right then that the cowboy was absolutely smitten.

“She’s almost five months, now. Had her a bit early, but the pregnancy was normal. She was excited to see the world.”

“What’s ‘er name?”

“Savannah,” you said, catching the excited glint in his eye at the name he had picked out during one of your hypothetical talks about the future.

“Savannah,” he said aloud, reaching out to gently trace her pudgy little cheek with his finger. Savannah instantly reached out, letting go of your hair in favor of taking hold of Jesse’s hand, giving tiny coos and curious babbles while pulling at his fingers. Jesse chuckled, clearly delighted at being the center of her attention.

“She’s beautiful,” he crooned quietly, looking up at you and giving you such a loving, caring gaze that it almost had your eyes watering all over again.

“She looks just like you.”

“I’ll bet she’s as sweet as her momma, and probably just as hard-headed,” he jested, giving a wry smile before affection turned it warm.

“I’m so glad you came back t’ me,” he said, cool fingers of his prosthetic caressing your face once more. You couldn’t help the relieved smile that lit your face. Savannah continued to coo excitedly between you both, just as she was meant to.

“Yeah, me too.


	5. The Ways of Meditation - Genji Shimada/Zenyatta/Reader

Outside, the evening air was cool and crisp with an early autumn breeze gently rustling the treetops. Leaves scattered by with the short, gentle gusts, and there was the slightest sound of others laughing and bantering somewhere inside, but otherwise, it was quiet.

Except it really wasn’t quiet, not with how your mind kept racing to and fro with the troubles and stresses of the past couple of weeks weighing down on you so heavily.

It had become an issue, so much so that you had caught up with Genji and Zenyatta just as they were heading out for their evening meditation. They were more than happy to have you join them, and you were thrilled to have the opportunity to finally unwind and release all the tension you’d been harboring for some time.

Unfortunately, it seemed your mind could not stop rolling over your issues. Relaxation would not find you here.

“You cannot force yourself into meditation,” Zenyatta said from your left, his focus seemingly on the magnificent sunset before you all, though his words directed to you. You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping.

“I know, I know. Wasn’t trying to, just…I just want to relax. I’m having such a hard time with everything, recently.”

“Perhaps you would feel better if you talked about what has you so tense?” Genji queried, his attention turning to you with a tilt of his head. You looked to the cyborg, hesitating only a moment before huffing in defeat.

You explained your issues quietly, your insecurities and the problems that weren’t even yours, but you felt responsible for. All the while, Genji and Zenyatta listened, encouraged you to continue with gentle questions and reassuring words. It felt good to get everything off your chest.

Somehow within the span of you talking, you found yourself within Genji’s embrace, legs on either side of you as you leaned back into his chest. Zenyatta had moved closer as well, a strangely warm, metallic hand absentmindedly smoothing over your raised and bent knee as he regaled one of several hilarious stories of his and Genji’s travels.

After one particular giggle-inducing story that had all three of you laughing, you smiled warmly at the two of them, feeling much calmer, much lighter than when you first escaped outside with them.

“Thanks, you guys. I didn’t intend to mess up your meditation, but this really helped.”

“Of course,” Zenyatta replied, pulling away to steeple his hands within his lap. “There are many ways of meditation that do not require complete stillness and quiet. That we were able to ease your mind, I find our time was not lost, and that we gained a better understanding of your person.”

“Anytime you need to unwind, we would be delighted to have you with us again,” Genji assured, Zenyatta giving an affirming hum at his pupil’s words. Your smile widened considerably.

“I might just have to take you up on that offer.”


	6. In Need of A Mentor - Jesse McCree/Reader

McCree watched you from a distance, eyes flitting over your form as you took aim at the targets ahead. You had just come back from a simulation with the few others that had joined the reformed agency that was Overwatch, and from what he had gathered from the reports, you hadn’t done so well.

Shots fired as the sound echoed through the enclosed area, and while most hit the intended target, Jesse could see how tense you were, could see your stubborn gait sway stiffly with each pull of the trigger. He frowned, feeling a familiar pang in his chest when you lowered your gun and just stared at the targets for a long moment with a deeply etched frown of your own.

He knew that look all too well.

With a sigh, he pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, spurs tinkling with each step forward. He paused beside you as you were reloading your weapon, your eyes cutting over to him for the barest moment before looking back down at what you were doing.

“Got something to say to me, cowboy?” you asked while loading the last of your ammo, readying your weapon for the next round of shots.

“You got yourself one hell of a shot, there,” he commented, giving a small, welcoming smile. He earned a scoff for his efforts.

“You gonna tell me why you really want to have a chat, or just beat around the bush?”

McCree’s smile didn’t falter. He knew you would be putting up a front. He was much the same when he had first joined Blackwatch, freshly plucked from the Deadlock Gang and given the choice of becoming something more than a criminal, something better. The stakes weren’t so high with you, being a new recruit who had come to joining the reformed Overwatch of your own accord, but he knew what you were feeling, could see his younger self mirrored perfectly in your guarded gaze.

“I don’t mean to be botherin’ you, but I figured I could help you out, if ya want. Give you a few pointers.”

You paused, finally giving Jesse your attention and a skeptical look.

“Why would you want to help me?” you asked, and Jesse felt he was getting somewhere. He’d been far more stubborn and hell-bent on challenging his Commander back then, but he could see the eagerness beneath the surface of your loner facade, the want to be better, the need to become something more and right past wrongs no one else knew of.

Perhaps you hadn’t expected much in giving your time to Overwatch, or maybe didn’t think your potential would be good enough, but hoping, all the same. Your marks in the simulation would suggest the same, but McCree knew better.

“Well, it may be hard to imagine, but I used to be just like you when I first joined. Stubborn as hell, one hell of a shot and all, and feeling like I had something to prove.”

Another scoff was thrown his way, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips now. That was promising.

“I lacked discipline. Made trouble ‘cause I didn’t fit in nowhere. I was a right outcast among all them heroes without much hope than to fall back in my ways. But there was someone who saw my potential, and wouldn’t you know it, I found my worth and where I fit in just fine.”

Jesse’s smile grew a fraction, expression warm and genuine.

“If ya don’t mind, I wanna be that someone for you. I know you got somethin’ more in there, more than a score on a piece of paper could ever tell you. I wanna help you find it.”

You stared McCree down for a long moment, so long, in fact, that Jesse thought he may have lost you, for good. It was then that you gave a hesitant smile, small, but no less genuine than the one he had given you moments before.

“I…I think I might like that, cowboy.”

“You can call me Jesse, y'know,” he said, stepping forward even as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I could, couldn’t I, _cowboy?_ ”

Jesse chuckled at your sass, moving behind you and motioning for you to raise your weapon as you would normally do. He had a feeling he would regret this partnership in the best of ways.

“Alright, first lesson:  ya gotta relax….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	7. Scars, So Lovely - Jesse McCree/Reader (NSFW)

You had told McCree that you wanted things between you to just happen naturally without any forced reactions or expectations. He was completely on board and promised to be on his best behavior, letting things progress in your relationship with easy movement and at a pace that was comfortable for you both.

Even so, you hadn’t really anticipated being pressed up against the wall as soon as the cowboy had returned from his latest mission’s debriefing, his hips grinding in slow, steady circles against your own. At that point in your relationship, however, you weren’t complaining. Far from it.

You gave a gasping moan at his movements, shuddering in his hold as your mind hazed over each time he pressed against you. A low chuckle had his chest rumbling against yours pleasantly, his breath warm against your ear as he nipped at the lobe. Another gasp passed your lips at the attention.

“Already got you hot ‘n bothered, darlin’? We ain’t even started yet.”

Jesse’s voice sent a wave of delight down your spine, his words a low murmur in your ear, husky and deep. His mouth descended upon your neck soon after, this time forcing you to cry out at the attention. His tongue could do wicked things, could ring out the strangest sounds from your throat with the simplest of actions.

You could feel his hand, warm and callused, press against your lower stomach, thumb just barely brushing underneath your shirt. His other hand was occupied with pulling down your sleeve to expose more skin to his seeking mouth, the metallic fingers a smooth and cool juxtaposition to the prickling, burning sensation of pleasurable heat warming your insides.

There was a brief, fleeting thought of panic that made its way into your mind as his thumb tucked even higher, passing over your navel with small, circling motions, though you attempted to ignore it. That is, until McCree’s hand decided to roam up your shirt completely, pulling the fabric with it, and you instantly froze in his hold.

McCree noticed the change right away, pulled back to gaze at you with a look of concern and mild guilt.

“Did I cross a line? Don’t be afraid to put me in my place, sugar.”

“No, it’s not that. I just….”

You sighed, looking away almost sheepishly. Jesse pulled your attention back to him, metallic prosthetic reaching up to cup your cheek and guide your gaze back on him. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your lips, pulling back just slightly before going in for another, more lingering kiss, teeth gently nibbling at your bottom lip.

“We won’t do a damn thing that makes you uncomfortable, y’hear? You gotta tell me what’s up, though, otherwise I can’t exactly fix the issue.”

“I just, I have a lot of scars,” you started, blushing at the short chuckle Jesse gave in reply. It wasn’t mean or belittling, just genuine and relieved, relieved that there weren’t any major issues with his surprise descent on you.

“That all? We all got scars, darlin’. It’s what gives our body history. They make for some entertaining stories, once in a while.”

“They’re not what others would call ‘sexy’,” you supplied, as if doing so would get him to push you away, yet McCree only gave you a grin.

“Some aren’t. Hell, I’m sure I got a few that ain’t so nice. In fact-”

He pulled away from you further, taking the time to pull off his shirt, his serape and armored chest piece having already been discarded before your encounter. He then turned around, and you gave a sharp gasp at the large, pale scar running across his lower back.

“Got that puppy nearly twenty years ago. Can’t say I was bein’ smart, but havin’ that is far better than havin’ died.”

You stepped closer, hand hovering over the area hesitantly.

“Can I-?”

Before you could even ask, McCree was leaning back into your hand almost eagerly. You traced the scar with the tips of your fingers, his skin just barely puckered from years of settling and smooth to the touch. He shuddered as you continued your ministrations, the intimacy of the moment coming back full-force when your hand pushed flat against his skin and stroked up his spine.

He twirled around to face you once more, lips all but devouring yours. His hands found your hips, resting there a moment before once again tugging up your shirt. Reflexively, you tensed again, though this time, McCree was ready.

“C’mon, darlin’, let me see,” he breathed, lips brushing yours with every word. “Let me see this here gorgeous body. Let me see your scars.”

You gave a small whimper at his words, his voice sending heat through you that settled low in your belly. With a shaky nod, you helped him pull your shirt over your head, doing your best not to shy away from him.

He explored first by touch, both skin-heated metal and burning flesh softly roaming over your chest, your stomach, along the curving arch of your back and across your shoulders, tracing the thin, barely-there scars that littered the expanse of your very being. He then trailed a hot line of open-mouth kisses down your body, pausing at the few slightly raised blemishes that tickled his tongue and dotting them with extra attention.

You were a moaning mess above him, breaths heavy and eyes blown wide. You had never felt so much affection for one man, never felt so cared for and loved the way he was loving you, at that moment.

Your hands tangled in the mess that was his hair as his mouth continued lower. He graced you with a deep growl against your lower stomach, the sound rumbling against your skin and making you keen.

“Got any scars on these lovely legs of yours?” he asked, tongue dipping fleetingly, teasingly, into your belly button. His hands were already making quick work of the button and zipper of your jeans.

“I-I’ve got…got a few, I’m sure,” you panted out, crying out in pleasured surprise when he pulled down your jeans to your knees and mouthed at you through your underwear.

“Good. Means I can take my time to explore while I’m down here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	8. What-Ifs and Sleeplessness - Hanzo Shimada/Reader

The archer was sleeping peacefully beside you, breaths even and face relaxed in his state of rest. You were cuddled close, hand lightly resting on his slowly rising and falling chest. You’d been in the same position for a couple hours now, just watching him.

Hanzo should have been home the day before, but something had happened during the mission, something no one was telling you about. You were so worried that you hadn’t caught a wink of sleep. When he showed up at the base with his team late that afternoon, a bit battered and worn, but thankfully in one piece and giving you the most welcoming smile, you very nearly broke down crying.

You were so relieved then; you still were. But still, your mind raced and created awful scenarios that had you wide awake and staring at Hanzo as if he would disappear from your grasp.

What if he hadn’t made it back from the mission? What if he left you, only to never return? What if he did return, but it was only because his teammates refused to leave his lifeless body behind?

You hadn’t realized you were crying until Hanzo turned to you, eyes peering open for a hazy moment until he was snapping to attention with a look of intense worry.

“What’s wrong? What has you so upset?”

You gave a choked gasp, trying to wave off his concern as you swiped at your eyes.

“It’s fine. I’m being s-silly, is all. I didn’t even know I was…was crying.”

Your following chuckle was weak and hollow as another spout of tears burned hotly in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks. Hanzo was quick to take hold of your face gently, wiping at the wet trails with his thumbs.

“This is not silly. You are upset and tired, and I feel…as if I may be to blame.”

“No, please, don’t…don’t say that. I worry too much, and it mucks up my sleeping. I’m just tired.”

_And I’m afraid you’ll disappear for good every time you leave._

He’s frowning still, not allowing you to move from his hold on you. He then presses forward, nose brushing against yours delicately in a heartwarmingly intimate gesture.

“I am here for you, just as you are here for me. You have nothing to worry about.”

You bit at your lip, took a deep breath, and gave a short nod of your head, willing your tears to subside. Hanzo was beside you, cradling you and speaking softly to ease your mind. It may have been four in the morning, but you were finally able to drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	9. The Past Is Quick To Haunt You, pt. 1 - Reaper/Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE:** This was written like, well over a year ago, before we really knew much about what happened to Reaper/Gabriel Reyes. So if it seems a bit off, well, I was going off what little I knew and what other headcanons I'd seen around, at the time. Hopefully it's still an enjoyable read!

Ultimately, you had gone with Gabriel to diffuse the situation, should things between the two commanders have escalated. You hated to see their friendship so strained and crumbling with each bitter word that passed their lips, but it wasn’t their fault, not entirely.

Things between Overwatch and Blackwatch had been strained for a while, with the first seeds of discord sewn after Jack’s promotion to Strike Commander. He hadn’t chosen it, of course, and honestly didn’t want it, as you’d been told, but he’d been heckled into the position with little room for argument by the higher-ups, and he had no choice but to accept. Gabriel had been the proud best friend at the inauguration and supported Jack for years after, but there was a growing tension that was hard to dismiss.

Then came the infighting, the false accusations and hateful rivalries between Overwatch and Blackwatch agents alike that escalated with each breaking news broadcast and the unnecessarily violent protests in many states and provinces. Something had changed nearly overnight, and a black cloud was forced over the agency you had come to love. Overwatch as a whole had become corrupt, had suddenly become the enemy of the people, and no one had seen it coming.

The meeting at the Swiss base was supposed to be a means of figuring out the next course of action to take in order to get things back in order. Instead, it turned into a shitfest, with both commanders walking out to settle their frustrations with one another via harsh words and angry fists.

You had followed them and were somehow able to get between them, backing Gabe away from Jack with a firm press of your hands against his chest. He went willingly, his own arm coming around you as he allowed you to push him back, though he was still spitting distasteful words, both English and Spanish, at Morrison.

And then suddenly, everything went to hell.

There were explosions, bright, flashing lights and all-consuming heat. Pain, so much pain, and then a moment of darkness before the light and the heat and the _excruciating pain_ came back full-force. Your lungs burned with each inhale, and each exhale left you with a cry and a plea that someone either find you or end your misery.

You remember a brief cry that was not your own, an answer to your struggles, then hands, familiar and shaking and strong, were pulling at your limbs, dark skinned arms seared with blisters and covered in blood snaking their way around your torso and heaving you closer. The pain had exploded into sheer agony at the movement, and it was enough to render you unconscious once more.

The next time you were aware of being awake and miraculously alive, it was to the sound of a heart monitor beeping steadily beside you in an unfamiliar room full of medical equipment and the not-so-pleasant numbness of your legs, or lack thereof. Multiple beds filled the large expanse where other patients could rest, but they were empty. You were alone, and for a while, you pretended the implication didn’t mean you had been the only one to survive.

\--  
Amputation had been the only way to save what little they could of your legs, one having been completely mutilated past your knee by fallen debris and unrelenting hellfire. The bone there was replaced by a titanium joint, and once you had healed sufficiently, you were given top of the line prosthetics to help you walk again. In return, you followed their orders, were subjected to their experimental serums of which made you stronger, _faster,_ an even better Soldier than you were before.

You were a _weapon_ to use as they pleased.

Talon had saved you, after all. You owed them your life.

Regardless, you took the threats with a grain of salt, only having one mission in mind: find out who destroyed everything you had come to love, and bring them down.

It took two long years for you to gain complete mobility of your legs without any hindrances, and another year of experimental serum injections and brutal training regimens to use your new augmentations at their full potential. You had become Talon’s fastest agent, able to move at inhuman speeds and ending enemies before they could even register you were there.

You were hailed as yet another successful experiment, quick to comply with orders and successful in nearly every mission thus far. Their praises were hollow to your ears, however. You may have been alive, but inside, you felt as dead as your comrades, as dead as the love you had lost that day, knowing he had been the one who had truly saved you at the cost of his own life.

God, but you missed him.

  
_“(Y/n), report to Sector 7, Entrance Hatch, in five, four, three, two-”_

“You called?”

Several pairs of eyes turned in your direction, some looking startled, others looking impassive or mildly intrigued. You’d been in Sector 4 before your com went off, the area clear across the base from Sector 7. For you, it took no time to reach the group calling you to them.

“You’ve been placed on the roster for the next mission. You’re used to solo missions, I know, but this time, you’ll be partnered with Widowmaker, Sombra, and Reaper, who will act as leader.”

At each name, your Commander motioned to each new partner you’d be working with, each giving their own unique greeting, or lack thereof. You were then quickly briefed and handed a folder on the mission and left to “get to know” your fellow partners.

As if any of you planned on doing so.

“Don’t be late,” was Widowmaker’s only attempt at conversation before leaving the small group.

Sombra was a bit more welcoming in her approach, giving an easy greeting and a smile that bordered on a smirk, as if she knew something you didn’t. Knowing her capabilities, you didn’t doubt it.

“It’ll be a pleasure working with you, ah, (Y/n), was it?”

“Yes,” you answered with a small nod of your head, shifting on your feet at the strange but wholly familiar feeling of being watched. “Likewise.”

Your eyes darted to Reaper, his presence rather intimidating as he stood just behind Sombra, masked face incredibly hard to read. It seemed he was looking at you, but it was hard to tell. It would explain the feeling of eyes on you, however. You gave a small nod of acknowledgement in his direction. He said nothing, though gave a slow nod in answer. For whatever reason, you felt significantly more at ease.

“I’ll meet you all here first thing in the morning. Should you need me before then, I’m just a call away.”

With that, you zipped away without a trace, leaving a very amused Sombra behind with Reaper.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” Sombra queried, laughing at the low grumble Reaper let out.

“Oh, this is gonna be so much _fun!_ ”

“You won’t touch her,” he growled out suddenly, turning to pin a glare at the smaller Latina. Sombra gave a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Relax, _Papi,_ ” she mocked, laughing as she ducked away from the swipe of sharp talons aimed at her face, “I don’t plan on messing with your girlfriend. Yet, of course.”

“Sombra,” he gave a growling warning, but the tech-savvy woman had dissipated in a swarm of brightly colored pixels, her laugh echoing around him for a moment longer.

Reaper gave a discontent hum, hands clenching into tight fists before releasing. He walked away from the Entrance Hatch, operatives and employees alike giving him a wide berth at the sight of wispy black tendrils encompassing his person. It was best to stay away from him when he got like this, and for good reason.

You shouldn’t have been there. He had been sure you’d died, even after his attempt at saving you before his own untimely _“demise”_. Yet here you were, alive and kicking, prosthetics in place and lovely as ever…save for the hollow look in your eyes and the empty sound to your voice.

Reaper growled angrily.

Someone had some answers for him, and he was going to get them, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	10. The Past Is Quick To Haunt You, pt. 2 - Reaper/Reader

You should have known that you weren’t the only one who had their own agenda while working under Talon’s scrutinizing gaze. It made sense; Talon had a very far reach, was rather influential around the world and knew how to draw a crowd when necessary, and could go into hiding when threatened. They were currently the most influential organization on the globe, and with good reason. It shouldn’t have been shocking for others to take advantage of such a thing.

Why you hadn’t considered Sombra to be one of those people, you weren’t sure.

On one particular mission, you joined the highly ranked trio of Sombra, Widowmaker, and Reaper. Things had gone awry with the alarm having somehow been set off, alerting the entire building that there was a threat. You’d been sure no one was left to sound it, and you were positive no one else had seen you or your team, and yet the blaring sound echoed throughout the building.

Regardless, you jumped into action, joining Reaper in taking out guards that swarmed into the hold left and right as Sombra chased after the target, Widowmaker taking out enemies from her high vantage point when she could. Things had gotten a tad more complicated when the mechs were being used, having caught Reaper off guard long enough to be sent flying. They were dealt with quickly after that.

Once things seemed to be in relative control, you zipped your way upward, taking the same path Sombra had traveled in hopes of finding her as well as the target. Reaper had attempted to order you back, but you were quick to assure him of your attempt to find Sombra. She had disappeared from coms, which usually didn’t bode well.

It took longer than you liked, but you found Sombra’s whereabouts, as well as the target’s own…and had listened in on more than you probably should have. When Sombra disappeared just as guards swarmed the room, you zipped away before you were noticed. You met up with the Latina on one of the rafters, where she had set up one of her phasers just as she confirmed the target had escaped.

You were sure you hadn’t been seen, but the look Sombra gave you said otherwise.

  
“We need to have a talk.”

You turned your attention back to the shelf you had been rearranging momentarily, a sarcastic tone in your voice.

“Is it about invasion of privacy? Because you’re really good at that.”

“Hah, very funny, _princesa._ You know what it’s about.”

You frowned at the mocking nickname she had chosen to give you, sighing in defeat as you turned to her, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Look, if it’s about the mission, your ‘secret agenda’ is safe with me. I have no reason to say anything to anyone.”

“Is that so?” Sombra quipped, looking more pleased than she had any right to.

“You’re not the only one around here who has their own agenda outside of Talon’s affairs. As far as I’m concerned, I didn’t see or hear anything.”

She stared you down for a long moment, giving a curious sort of hum. You’d seen her inquisitive before, and while she wasn’t necessarily cruel, especially to those she had some sort of trust with, you knew she was able to twist things into her favor. It was how she got things done, playing off others to gain the upper hand, a tactic that worked well for her. What she gained from this particular conversation other than your silence, you weren’t sure.

“You used to be part of that organization, Overwatch, yes?”

“Yeah,” you answered carefully, not sure where this was going. “Not really a big secret.”

“It’s a shame things happened the way they did. Then again, I suppose no one really knows what went on behind the media’s cameras.”

“What are you getting at, Sombra?”

“Why are you here, other than Talon attempting to keep you on a leash?”

“I…”

You hesitated, trying to figure out where this was all leading, but finding no clues in her words. You vaguely felt like you were being led into something, and it didn’t feel like something good.

“I want to find the truth. I need to know what the hell happened, who was behind the infiltration and the lies and just…everything that took place. I _need_ to know who set us up and-”

_And killed the man I loved._

Sombra looked inquisitive for a moment, tapping her long, painted nail against her chin.

“Hm, I swear this is a familiar set-up, but where have I…oh! That’s right! I almost forgot! You’re not the only one here with ties to Overwatch.”

Pixels began to appear before her as she stepped closer to you, fingers moving over the holographic clusters and opening up images and videos. She then flipped them and enlarged them with a swipe of her fingers, allowing you to view the feed.

“And you are not the only one trying to find the truth.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the pictures and information of former Overwatch operatives you remembered well, some even from Blackwatch. You then watched their demise on the video feeds presented to you, horrified at the scenes. Moreso, you were angry at the being ending their lives, decked out in black and dispersing into thick smoke at his departure.

“Why…are you showing me this?”

“Maybe because I have nothing better to do,” Sombra shrugged as she closed the feeds with a swipe of her hand, the pixels dispersing and disappearing in mere seconds. “Or maybe I like you and believe you deserve to know what’s been happening. Like you said, everyone has their own agenda. Maybe some of us even have the same one.”

You glared at her a moment, confused and upset…and then you realized what she was getting at. You were no longer just angry, you were _livid._

With a _swoosh_ ing sound, you were speeding past Sombra and out the door, zipping here and there throughout the base looking for the man that was the target of your fury. It took longer than you thought it would, but you found Reaper just as he was entering the code to his private quarters. Something in you snapped at the sight of him.

He didn’t anticipate your attack from behind, and with a shout, you tackled him into his room just as the door opened, sending you both rolling to the ground. For a moment, you had him pinned.

He was quick to gather his bearings, however, and had flipped your positions, pinning you roughly to the ground with a snarl. His hold relented suddenly, head cocking to the side in confusion as he called your name.

Taking advantage of the moment, you pulled out of his grip and made to land a punch to his masked face, Reaper dodging the attack and dispersing into his wraith form to avoid any other hits you decided to throw his way. You jumped up and remained in a ready crouch as he materialized once more, your teeth gritting at the low hum he gave.

“Who are you?”

Reaper tensed suddenly at your question, allowing you yet another opportunity to move in for an attack. He barely had time to put up an arm in defense before you were on him, fists connecting with his raised arm and his vested chest. He let out a grunt at your hard hits, blocking and dodging each of your attacks without dishing out his own, and it only served to piss you off more.

“Who are you, damnit?!” you shouted, feeling angry tears well up in your eyes. “Why are you targeting them? What do you know? Tell me what you _know!_ ”

With your next hit, Reaper was quick to grab hold of your wrist. You made to twist in his grasp, but he anticipated it and moved with you. Next thing you knew, you were pinned to the wall, thrashing and attempting to force your way out of his hold, but his single-handed grip on your wrists was firm, as was the hard press of his body against yours.

“You…you _asshole!_ What the hell do you gain from this? You know something…you know something about what happened to Overwatch, don’t you? It’s why you’ve been picking them off one by one. Tell me! Tell me right now, or I’ll-!”

Your breath left you in a harsh exhale as Reaper’s free hand came up to your face. Where you had expected a slap, possibly even your skin gouged with the talons of his gloves, he instead carefully caressed your cheek with his palm. You nearly jerked back at the gentle touch, anger simmering into confusion.

“Wh-What are you-?”

“ _Mi sol,_ ” he rasped, fingers carefully moving through your hair. A pang went through your chest, and it suddenly hurt to breathe. This time you did jerk away as best you could.

“Don’t…don’t say that,” you muttered, feeling your legs tremble at the raw emotions suddenly coursing through you. Your anger had left you emotionally open and vulnerable to the memory of past events, to the memory of all you once had and had lost so suddenly, and you hated it. You especially hated that Reaper was toying with you like this, pulling at your tender heartstrings right where it hurt most.

“ _Mi rayo de sol, luz de mi vida,_ ” he continued, voice light and gruff as he again raked his fingers carefully through your hair. It only tore you apart quicker.

“S-stop…stop it! You don’t get to say those things! Only him. Only _him,_ you hear me?!”

His ministrations stopped abruptly, and you were slowly let go from his hold. You were set on running out of there, knowing Reaper wouldn’t be able to catch you, when he made a curious motion. His hand had moved to the bottom edge of his mask, fingers gripping and pausing a moment as if waiting for something. You realized, after a moment, that he was making sure your attention was on him before he slowly lifted the bone white mask, revealing dark, ashy skin, pale scars across full lips and the bridge of his nose, a pair of mismatched eyes, one an alarming shade of crimson and the other a familiar warm brown….

It felt as if your heart had stopped beating. Even with the evidence clearly before you, you couldn’t…no, it just couldn’t be….

“Ga-Gabriel? No…there’s no way-”

He reached for you, possibly intent on comforting you or brushing away the tears that now flowed freely down your cheeks, but for every step forward, you stepped back. Gabriel Reyes was Reaper, one of Talon’s greatest assets in taking out enemies and, subsequently, gaining them more power. He was your Gabriel, and yet he wasn’t.

Gabriel stopped his advance, seemingly at a loss for what to do now that he had revealed himself to you. You made the choice for him by rushing past him, quick as lightning, and didn’t stop until you were locked away in your own room, away from curious, prying eyes that sought answers to the commotion that their respective ears had picked up.

You knew the truth was going to hurt. You just didn’t know it would tear you apart from the inside, first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	11. More Than Just A Score - Jack Morrison/Reader

“Your aim’s off,” Jack commented lightly as you stepped from the shooting range, gun now void of ammo and in need of a cleaning. You gave the Strike Commander a glare, doing your best to reign in the bout of unnecessary anger you’d been feeling since yesterday. He wasn’t to blame; no one was, and yet you couldn’t seem to shake the desire to pinpoint your frustrations on others.

“Guess I was just off, today.”

“You’ve never been _that_ off, before.”

Deep breath in, slow exhale.

“Well, can’t always be at my best. Not like I can get any better than that, anyways.”

And there it was, the root of the problem. The big assessment for the higher-ups yesterday had been good for some, harsh on others, and you were part of the indecisive middle, which only seemed worse. It was the disappointment you could see in their faces as they studied your marks that got to you, made you feel inferior in a way you’d never felt before.

_“There’s potential, yeah, but will it ever come to light?”_

_“Scores are excellent, no doubt, but there’s been no progression in ability. It makes me wonder if this will be an issue further on.”_

_“No better, no worse. Stuck in limbo, it seems. Are we sure this is the kind of recruit that belongs here? Will this be enough?”_

“Hey,” Jack called out to you, fingers grazing your shoulder as you passed him by. You jerked and turned to him, eyes narrowed in a glare.

“What do you want from me, Jack? What is it you want me to say? I did shit practice today, I get it. It’s just a bad day.”

“Hey, now, no reason to get angry. I just wanted to know if you…if you were okay?”

You scoffed at his concern, which only seemed to make him worry even more.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? I’m just _okay_ to everyone. I’m not anything special, or able to achieve anything higher than what I’ve been putting forth. I’m good, but I’ll never be good _enough_.”

You hadn’t realized you were shaking so terribly until your gun nearly slipped from your hand. You jerked back and placed the weapon on the nearest surface as if it burned you, then stiffly turned to look at Jack, who looked torn between wanting to comfort you and keeping his distance.

“You know that’s not true,” he said quietly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wasn’t the greatest at handling your emotional distress, but he was trying, always did.

“Isn’t it, though?” you countered, feeling the anger you’d been tampering down ebb and give way to a feeling of hopelessness that had been hiding beneath the bitter emotion, waiting for your walls to crumble. Tears burned and blurred you vision, but you blinked them away before they could fall, willing yourself not to break down there, of all places.

Jack noticed the change rather quickly. He took two broad steps toward you before stopping altogether, hesitating, reading your body language for any signs that you wanted him to step away. When there were none, he moved forward more slowly until he was able to pull you to him. You went willingly.

“You are more than _just enough_ ,” he said, hands smoothing down your back with gentle pressure. “You are more than score marks and decent accuracy.”

“Only decent?”

Jack gave a low chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He was relieved to see the barest hint of a smile on your face as you looked up at him.

“You are _more_ , so much more, than anything this program has to offer you. They don’t see it, but others do. Reyes, and your teammates, they see it, and so do I. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Can’t tell if that’s a threat or a promise,” you said, smiling just a bit brighter. Jack couldn’t help but smile along.

You were going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	12. Stubborn and Sick - Roadhog/Reader

“Go lay down.”

You gave a half-hearted glare as you shuffled through the dining room and straight into the kitchen, completely ignoring your large, intimidating significant other, who was watching you like a hawk from behind his ever-present mask. With a soft grunt, you opened the fridge, finding the task of getting out of bed and moving around much more difficult than it should have been.

Aches and chills impeded your body, just as the fever and pounding headache. Everything hurt, and you were miserable because of it, almost angrily so.

Who cared if you woke up that morning feeling like utter shit? There were things you had planned on doing, such as weeding your vegetable garden, and fixing the squeaky hinges on some of the window shutters outside. Hell, you had been in the process of saving your tomato plants-

And then suddenly, you were in a cold bath, shivering and overheated and startling at having Roadhog sitting beside the tub and keeping you steady and submerged to lower your body temperature.

You weren’t necessarily angry at him, just the fact that you were rendered so helpless and feeble, sick to the elements as if at the butt of a cruel, ironic joke that hindered any sort of progress you wanted to make around your home.

“Hey.”

Jumping at the low, rumbling timbre, you turned, wincing and stumbling from the movement. Roadhog was quick to hold his hand out, steadying you with gentle pressure. Your glare returned.

“’m fine! Thirsty. I can get it m'self.”

All your grumbling did was earn you a low rumble from the man, his hand shifting to your lower back and easing you away from the fridge. You whined at the insistence behind the gentle pressure and followed along, expecting him to lead you back to the bedroom. Instead, you were surprised to find yourself in the living room, even moreso upon finding a blanket and two fluffy pillows laid out on the couch.

How long had you been staring mindlessly into the fridge?

You huffed as he led you to the couch, climbing into the makeshift bedding upon his gentle urging. You carefully made yourself comfortable, trying not to jostle your aching head any more than necessary, and finding that you were actually quite comfortable in the new space.

Blearily, you blinked up at Roadhog, who was holding out his hand in front of you, displaying two yellow pills. You took them without much fuss, delighting at the sight of a water bottle in his other hand, of which he handed over. Swallowing back the medicine was easy, and the cold water felt amazing going down your throat.

For the first time in several hours, you felt relaxed, not nearly as antsy as you were before. It would take at least half an hour for the meds to kick in, and it would take several more doses to fully rid you of whatever this ailment was, but already, the comfort of having someone looking out for you was making things so much better.

“Sorry I’m an ass,” you apologized, earning a mild hum of acknowledgement, one you understood as agreement as well as understanding.

“Love you,” you mumbled soon after, feeling your eyelids getting heavy. Fingers, gentle and callused, brushed against your cheek, a choppy sigh leaving you at the careful touch.

“Go to sleep,” he mumbled, watching your eyes close completely and your breath slow into an easy rhythm until you were finally asleep.

He was worried, but he knew you would bounce back in no time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	13. Painful Monthly Woes - Jesse McCree/Reader

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” you crowed quietly as you nuzzled your head against the cowboy practically lying beneath you. He’d suggested a movie, one of your favorites, to be exact, and had even managed to bring you your favorite pizza with extra cheese, all in the hopes of easing your discomfort from that dreaded time of the month.

“You need a new position, sugar? We can sit up, if your feelin’ uncomfortable.”

“Yeah…yeah, might be better.”

McCree was gentle as he eased you both up into a sitting position, his legs on either side of you as you curled up against him. You’d barely watched the film, too engrossed in keeping yourself composed, but the cramping hadn’t let up much, if at all, and you were nearly at the point of throwing a tantrum at the constant, annoying pain in your lower half.

“Pretty bad this time around, ain’t it?”

“Gee, you think?” you quipped, clearly not amused or even in the right mindset to deal with such a stupid question. Jesse, bless him, took it in stride, smiling as he eased a hand into the blanket cocooned around you and carefully kneaded his knuckles down your spine, from between your shoulder to your lower back. You groaned as he hit the lower areas and began working the muscles there, leaning more heavily against the cowboy as he focused his attention where you needed it most.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll take good care of ya, cranky mood n’ all.”

You were sure you had something snarky to snap back at him, but that hand was finally easing the cramping a bit, and all you could do was groan at the relief it brought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	14. Home To You - Jesse McCree/Reader

McCree gave a heavy sigh as he quietly entered your small home, using the key you had given him some time ago to unlock the door. His latest mission had been long, but the debriefing had seemed even longer as the team went over the details of the mission. He didn’t care to chime in much; McCree had been much more eager to get home.

_Home._

He never thought much about it, the possibility of ever finding a home, a place he belonged and would have a permanent stay in. Overwatch was as close to home as he had gotten in a long time, until you came along and changed up his world for the better.

He gave a small smile as he maneuvered his way through the house and down the small hallway that led to the bedroom. He opened the door, finding you fast asleep beneath the comforter of your shared bed.

Seeing you made his smile widen.

McCree was careful about changing into more comfortable clothing as you continued to snooze, careful how he handled Peacekeeper and his other arsenal on his person. He didn’t want to accidently drop something or place something down too suddenly and wake you.

When he was situated, having briefly washed his face and brushed his teeth, McCree carefully pulled back the covers and slid in behind you, cuddling close and pulling you even closer by wrapping his arm around your hips. You were warm and smelled like that sweet-smelling shampoo you preferred, light and floral.

You shifted in his hold a moment later, slowly turning toward him and nuzzling into his chest, giving a hum.

“Mm, Jesse?”

“Yeah, shh, it’s me. Go on back to sleep, sugar, I got you.”

You gave another hum and pressed your lips fleetingly to his bared chest, the touch almost ticklish against the hairs there.

“Love you.”

McCree could practically feel his heart soar in his chest at your mumbled words of affection.

“Love you, too, dumplin’.”

It was good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	15. Down With The Sickness - Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada/Reader

It was no secret that you and your boys had been trying for a baby for some time. To you, it didn’t matter who the “blood” father was, though both Jesse and Hanzo had their reasons as to why the other should have the honor to sire the child. Strength and empathy and physical appearance and bloodlines…it was all thrown out there on the table and argued over until you became exasperated and left the room.

In the end, and much to your relief, you all settled on letting fate decide. Your birth control implant was taken out, and you were given roughly a week for your body to adjust to the change in your hormones before any trying would result in what you were looking for, the start of a, hopefully, healthy pregnancy.

For that whole week, Jesse and Hanzo waited patiently, teased you mercilessly with light, flittering touches and chaste kisses, promising words left to linger in your ear and in your imagination for hours before you were utterly consumed by them. And when that long, torturous week was over, you were treated like a queen, pampered and loved and adored for hours on end.

After that night, things became a bit hectic. Becoming pregnant had been forcibly put on the back burner, at least for the time being, and that was okay. There was still so much time, so much to do while you were still able.

Missions, many back-to-back, left little room for long, intimate sessions, anyhow, and what little moments you had with your boys were often spent sleeping in the comfort of their embraces to start the next day with a new briefing. At one point, Jesse was injured and out of commission for a full week, of which you and Hanzo were sure to stay by his side until he was completely healed and all but forced by the gunslinger to go out and do something for yourselves with a chuckle. And then came flu season, and your immune system had been shot to hell with the constant stress and lack of sleep that you were more susceptible to the virus. It had only been a matter of time before you were hit with the sickness.

So when you woke up one morning, nauseous as hell and head spinning slightly as you rushed to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, it came as no surprise.

“I swear if…if Tracer gave me that shit she’s had for a week now, I’m…I’m gonna be pissed,” you glowered into the porcelain, proceeding to dry heave a few times before the rolling feeling in your gut finally settled. When you looked up from your seated position on the bathroom floor, it was to Jesse standing in the doorway, hair a mess from having just woken up at your rushed escape from his arms and concerned almond brown eyes staring at you.

“Do y'reckon you got what’s been goin’ around the base?”

“Probably,” you answered, leaning back and taking in a deep breath, calming your racing heart at the hectic five minutes you had just endured. Several agents had already suffered the same fate, two of which having gained the nasty flu virus. Tracer was just starting to feel better, but still looked deathly pale, as far as the last time you saw her out of her room. You didn’t think what you had was the flu, but being sick still wasn’t fun.

“I need to start taking vitamins or something to get my immune system back up. I can’t get sick like this! Too many of us are still out of commission, as it is.”

You stood and moved to the sink, rinsing your mouth out while reaching for your toothbrush. Jesse was quick to come up behind you, arm wrapping around your middle carefully as if it could trigger you into heaving again if he were too rough. With a sigh, you reached for his arm, giving the metal prosthetic a gentle stroke.

“I’ll be fine, cowboy. I’m honestly feeling better already,” you assured, finding the words to be true. Though your stomach was still settling, your dizziness was easing up, as was the overall feeling of blah-ness.

“Go on ahead to Angela, just to be sure. Hate seein’ you stuck up in bed, sick as a dog.”

“I’ll head that way in a bit. Just…don’t tell Hanzo?”

Jesse frowned. “Now, darlin’-”

“There’s no need to make him worry over something I can take care of quickly,” you interrupted. “He’s got enough on his plate, and worrying over me is the last thing he needs, right now.”

Jesse gave you a quiet look before relenting, smiling gently.

“Alright. But check in with me from time to time. Someone’s gotta worry ‘bout ya, regardless.”

You laughed and gave a nod in agreement, and that was that. You went to Angela, who took a few samples to hopefully pinpoint what sickness had overtaken you and gave you some lozenges for the nausea as well as some vitamins to hopefully prevent you from getting any sicker. The day went on with Jesse watching over you like a hawk, but there was no need. You felt fine, great, even, and you had written off the morning as having a reaction to dinner the night previous.

The next morning, you felt fine, as if you had never been sick, which solidified your point of sickness. That is, until you joined your boys in the mess hall for breakfast.

The smell of fried meats and scrambled eggs usually had your mouth watering in delight, but now it was with dread. If you hadn’t been spotted by your cowboy and waved over, you would have run back to your room for those lozenges. Instead, you fought the feeling of nausea as you joined Jesse and Hanzo at one of the tables, the archer having just finished up a cup of green tea, of which usually smelled pleasant but now held a sour odor. You were just grateful the scent wasn’t very strong on him when you kissed him in greeting.

“You good, darlin’?” McCree asked with a smile after his morning smooch, though you could see the knowing concern in his eyes. Hanzo looked between you curiously, and you were quick to give a reassuring smile as you sat next to the gunslinger.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m good.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at the hesitance in your voice, but he continued with the conversation he’d held previously before your arrival, his gaze every so often flitting over to you. You did your best to look invested in whatever conversation they were having, but the longer you sat there, the harder it was to control the bile trying to force its way into and out of your throat. You really should have just gone back and- oh, that wasn’t good….

“What’s wrong? Jesse, what’s going on?”

You felt Hanzo’s hand clasp over your clenched fist on the table, thumb easing over your skin in hopes of soothing you. Jesse’s hand had moved to your thigh, attempting to ground you as you fought the nausea. A helpless whimper left you as you pressed your lips tightly together, eyes shut in the vain hope of fighting off the sick feeling, but you were losing the battle.

“Darlin’? Do you need to-”

Without warning, you darted up from your seat and ran to the nearest trashcan, nearly missing it entirely as you had a repeat of the previous morning. You could feel eyes on you for a moment before the concerned presence of your two boyfriends hovered about you, a gentle press and rub of their hands along your back comforting as you eased into dry heaves.

“Why did you not say anything to me about being sick?” Hanzo asked, stern but gentle as your retching finally calmed and you were able to catch your breath.

“Didn’t…didn’t need you to worry, too,” you answered, thankfully taking the bottle of water Jesse had somehow conjured up. You rinsed your mouth out and spit into the trashcan one last time, scowling at your luck.

“Honestly, I thought I was fine,” you explained, “I was only sick yesterday morning, woke up fine today.”

“Somethin’ set you off, make you all queasy again?” McCree asked as you sipped from your water bottle, breathing easier than you had since entering the mess hall.

“The food. All the smells…I don’t know, it made me feel so sick to my stomach. It’s better now, but I still-”

You stopped suddenly and practically gagged at the idea of food, both Hanzo and Jesse ushering you out of the dining area where the mix of scents wouldn’t bother you any longer and nearly running into Angela in the process.

“Oh! I was hoping to find you here,” she spoke, smiling with an understanding look on her face as you took a moment to calm yourself from heaving all over again.

“Glad to see you, Angie,” you greeted, voice wavering a bit despite your smiling back at her. “You got any news for me?”

“Actually, yes,” she answered, seemingly brightening with her words, “I have news for the three of you.”

There was the briefest pause where the good doctor was given confused looks by you and your boys before she gave a small hop and a clap of her hands.

“Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

Had you been able to see Hanzo’s and Jesse’s reaction, their eyes widening almost comically as they turned to look at you, then at each other, you would have surely thought them humorous. As it was, you were shell-shocked into stillness, staring at a beaming Angela as if she had just offered you the world on a silver platter.

“Are you…I’m actually gonna…?”

“You’re already a month along, according to the blood work, but I’d like to do another proper exam to make sure everything is as it should be.”

You took in a sharp breath, feeling your stomach flip for a completely different reason. The weird sort of dazed limbo you had been stuck in for only a minute shattered around you when Jesse began to chuckle, then laugh, then outright shout in joy as he suddenly picked you up and spun you around in the air.

“J-Jesse, her nausea!” Hanzo reminded him quickly, and the cowboy put you back on your feet and relented his hold on you, only for Hanzo to pull you to him in such a warm embrace, his arms trembling around you. He was whispering something in Japanese, something you didn’t understand, but the gentle words sounded almost reverent.

“Oh, nelly! My baby’s havin’ a _baby!_ ” McCree shouted in delight, bending over with a laugh before jumping up and moving to wrap his arms around you and Hanzo in an energetic display. “I’m gonna be a _Pa!_ ”

“We’re going to be a _family,_ ” Hanzo marveled, looking down at you as you stared hard at his chest.

It hadn’t quite hit you yet, it seemed, as you were still shocked into silence, still trying to process the information. You were pregnant. You and Jesse and Hanzo were going to have a baby together. You were going to be a family, just like you had all wanted…

Hands, one calloused at the fingertips and one smooth and cool, swept over your cheeks, wiping away lines of tears you hadn’t realized had fallen from your eyes. You looked up to see both Hanzo and Jesse looking down at you, excited and scared and so full of love for you that it sent a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

You gave a wide grin before laughing giddily.

“We’re having a baby!” you practically cooed as your boys leaned in, peppering your teary face with kisses before taking turns pecking at your lips as well as each other’s.

Angela had moved off to the side to give you three some privacy, a moment to share the overwhelming joy of what was to come. As you stood there, warm in the embrace of your archer and your cowboy, sharing sweet words between three different languages and looking to the future, you couldn’t help but smile.

——

  
“Sugar, what if ya end up havin’ twins?”

“Jesse McCree, don’t you dare put that sort of evil on me!”


	16. Morning Oportunity - Jesse McCree/Reader (slight NSFW)

The light of the late morning sun warmed your bare back pleasantly as you gave a long stretch, sighing at the few cracks of joints realigning. The arm around your waist tightened its hold on you with your movement, pulling you closer before you could have the barest thought of moving away. You couldn’t help but smile.

Last night was the first night you and McCree had finally taken the step in your relationship to become more intimately, physically involved. It had been an experience like no other, his hands practically mapping your skin as greedily as his lips had, and the things he said…well, you knew he had a way with words, but never had you known such intimacy in his speech, never known such devotion behind simple phrases whispered low and hot against your ear.

You shuddered at the thought, cuddling just a bit closer to Jesse, hands carefully carding through the course hair sprinkling his chest. He gave a low hum and shifted in your embrace, arm tensing against you before relaxing fully.

“Well, look here,” he mumbled, voice wrecked with sleep and just as deep, “got me a mighty fine catch this mornin’. Must be havin’ the best damn dream of my life.”

You scoffed lightly at his words, fingers tweaking over his nipple playfully before moving back to the middle of his chest. He groaned at the contact.

“Careful, now, might start somethin’ that’ll take the rest of the mornin’ to finish.”

“Who says that’s not exactly what I want?” you tease, pressing your lips to his chest, lightly moving across it before enclosing your mouth over the previously abused nipple. He gasped and tightened his hold around you, cursing as your tongue made an appearance, bringing the previously flat skin to a hard peak.

“Darlin’,” he breathed out, “you could damn well bring a man to his knees.”

You grazed your teeth across the pebbled flesh before pulling off completely, smile curling your lips.

“That what you want, cowboy?”

Another groan, another tightening of his arm around you. Then suddenly, you were above him, Jesse having shifted beneath you with little effort. His smile was warm and infectious, and it caused your heart to beat wildly in your chest.

“I might be inclined to the opportunity.”


	17. Restless - Jesse McCree/Reader

You were very antsy, being cooped up in the house as you had been. The laundry was cleaned and folded and hung hours ago. Dishes were squeaky clean and put back into the cupboard, and the counters had been wiped down, twice. Floors had been swept, the bed made, and everything in the bathroom and fridge and pantry was where it should be. Even the trash had been thrown out, and _still_ you couldn’t shake the need to do something, despite the ache in your ankles and lower back.

So, you had donned a light jacket, rubbing over your distended belly as a kicked was aimed just above your belly button, and headed out the door in hopes that a little fresh air would do you some good.

Already, the fall air was calming your nerves, the cool scent of fallen leaves and earth a welcoming distraction from the artificial lemon cleaner you were sure was stuck in your nose.

The afternoon was waning, the start of a beautiful sunset just over the horizon of tall trees catching your eye. It was the perfect time of day to take a stroll, and your body, though aching from all the movement of the day, was thanking you for it.

As you walked along the path that led into town, swift movement to your right had you turning, gazing through the trees. You smiled and continued on, listening for yet another sign of movement. Sure enough, the crunch of leaves made its way to your ears, as well as the synchronized steps of a four-footed animal. It seemed like it was coming closer.

You purposefully slowed your stride, quietly laughing to yourself when the stride increased, heavy footfalls becoming louder until they slowed and became a trot from just behind you. The feeling of a cold, wet nose against the palm of your hand had you laughing quietly and looking down a bit.

It seemed you weren’t the only one needing a moment to breathe.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Gabriel with the perimeter?” you queried, petting over thick brown fur. Honey brown eyes, almost glowing gold, blinked and narrowed slightly as if throwing the question back at you.

_“Ain’t you supposed to be restin’?”_ you could hear his gaze say, the massive wolf nudging your leg as if unhappy.

“Oh, hush, Jesse,” you chuckled. “I was going crazy being stuck in the house. Needed some air.”

Jesse gave a grumbling growl, low in pitch and rather quiet. He understood the need to get out in the open, after all. It was in his blood.

“Are you joining the hunt tonight? I think we’re still good on meat for a few more days, if you wanted to opt out.”

Just as you poised the question, a lone howl could be heard, far in the distance. You recognized it as Gabriel calling out to the pack, and, sure enough, several others answered the call. Jesse waited for the majority to answer, then gave his own call, his head rising to the sky as a low tone emitted from his throat in a long note. There was a brief moment of silence after his call before Gabriel gave one back.

With a huff, Jesse reached out and nipped at the end of your jacket, tugging on the material and redirecting you back the way you had come. You laughed lightly as you followed the massive wolf back home. He was staying in, it seemed.

When you reached your cozy little cottage, you barely managed to take off your coat before big, gentle hands were around you, settling over your stomach. It was always a shock how easily Jesse could shift, and how quickly the process was for him.

He had told you, once upon a time, that it hadn’t been so easy when he was younger. It had been painful, as he constantly denied who and what he was. Gabriel had found him, brought him into his pack, and showed Jesse that he didn’t have to hate his true nature, that becoming one with himself would only benefit him. He was not a monster, merely something _more,_ and ever since then, Jesse had stayed true to himself.

It was something Jesse was eager to teach your child, regardless if they, too, would be carrying the gene.

You placed your hands against Jesse’s own, sighing contentedly.

“Welcome home, Jesse,” you spoke gently, looking up and over your shoulder to find the man smiling down adoringly at you. He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss to your lips, leaning in for another, much longer caress that had you huffing out a breath when he pulled back.

“Good to be home, darlin’. You’ve been cleanin’.”

“And you’re very naked,” you pointed out with a grin, causing the werewolf to chuckle.

“Don’t suppose you’ll let it slide, hm?”

“By all means,” you shrugged, moving toward the kitchen to get started on dinner. “But I’m not joining you, this time. That’s what put me in my predicament, in the first place.”

“Party pooper,” was said as Jesse moved toward the bedroom, causing you to laugh out loud.

The evening promised to be a cozy one, with Jesse being home for the night. There was still another week before the full moon, which meant his appetite would be strong. An easy dinner of burger steaks and brown gravy with roasted potatoes would be hearty enough to fill him. Maybe some snap peas, as well, and some marmalade on the side for you. Sweet and savory was definitely a craving of yours. Now you were really hungry.

“Hey.”

You turned to look at Jesse, having just seasoned the ground meat within a mixing bowl. He had donned a pair of sweatpants and a thin cotton shirt, his go-to comfort outfit that kept his ridiculously warm body cool.

“Hey. Any special requests? Making burger steaks and gravy.”

“Special requests? How about you scoot on over to the couch and relax, and I finish up?”

“Jesse,” you said, giving him a look. He returned the look just as prominently, showing he was being quite serious.

“You’ve been cleanin’ and scrubin’ the house all day. I sneezed when I entered the bathroom, the cleaner is so strong. Sugar, I know you gotta be hurtin’ somethin’ fierce, bein’ on your feet for so long.”

With a sigh, you turned and faced Jesse, small smile in place.

“My ankles hurt, and I’m sure that my feet will swell as soon as I take my shoes off. Junior, here, has been pressing against my spine and kicking at me all day. I’m tired and sore, and I just want to rest, but-”

“You’re antsy, sugar, I know,” he responded, reaching out and pulling you into a warm embrace. You practically sagged against him, the feeling of shifting your weight more onto your front causing you to groan.

“I’ve got another month of this…this restlessness, and then the real fun begins.”

“No more sleep for us,” Jesse lamented, kissing at your hair and rubbing against your back. The pressure felt amazing against your sore muscles.

“Mm, no sleep, even more restlessness. Gonna have to get on a whole new schedule for the baby.”

“I’m sure the pack’ll help us out whenever we need it. Gabriel is excited, even though he don’t show it outright. Pretty sure Angie’s already got us a gift, and Rein and Torb have already volunteered to watch the pup literally at the drop of a dime. It takes a village, apparently.”

You looked up at Jesse then, smiling softly.

“Yeah…almost forgot. I’ll have the best help any mother could ever ask for.”

“You already do,” Jesse assured. “Now, let me help you out, li'l Mama, and allow me to cook dinner.”

With a raised brow, you gave Jesse a challenging look.

“Think you know how?”

“Ah, my heart! Gone and wounded me, sugar, point blank,” Jesse harked, throwing a hand over his heart in a bit of dramatics. You swatted at his arm as he chuckled.

“Think I can manage, if you’re willin’ to give a few pointers from the couch. Want you to relax for a bit, elevate them feet. See if we can’t get you a moment of peace.”

You reached up and placed a kiss on Jesse’s cheek, rubbing at the hairs along his arm for a moment.

“Let me open some windows, let in some fresh air. Then we’ll see if we can keep you from burning the potatoes.”

Jesse swooped in for another kiss, hands coming up to frame either side of your stomach. Beneath his palm, he felt the distinct kick of a tiny foot and couldn’t help the wide grin that lit up his face.

“Sounds like a mighty fine plan, to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


	18. Enjoying The Storm - Gabriel Reyes/Male!Reader

Heavy, dark grey clouds were a sign of how the evening would progress, a sure guarantee that rain would be on the way. Thunder could be heard in the distance, rumbling low and deep, but lightning could yet be seen through the mass of clouds growing slowly darker as the minutes ticked by.

Only a few windows had been opened, ones well covered by the overhang of the roof, allowing the light scent of water and earth and the distinct freshness of Mother Nature to curl into your home with the gentle breeze. Surprisingly, it mixed beautifully with the warm, spicy scent of cider being simmered and seasoned from within the kitchen, hints of clove and cinnamon heating your cheeks pleasantly.

“It start up yet?”

You turned to see Gabriel looking to you from over his shoulder, one hand stirring the contents within a crock pot while the other blindly reached for mugs from within the closest cabinet. He had always been good at multitasking.

“Not yet, but any minute, now, I’m sure of it,” you stated, feeling a shudder roll down your spine. “I can almost feel it, I swear.”

Gabriel chuckled before turning his attention back to the crockpot. You watched from your seated position at the bay window as he took a ladle and filled two mugs full of homemade apple cider he had been slowly simmering for a couple hours. It had made your shared home smell wonderful, gave it a warm light you couldn’t describe.

He reached for a container, one you recognized from earlier use, and pulled out two cinnamon sticks, placing one in each mug before picking them up by the handles. When he turned, he hesitated only a moment upon finding your gaze on him before smiling big, almost coyly.

“Get distracted?” he questioned while carefully moving forward and offering you a mug.

“Maybe just a little,” you answered, smiling and taking the offered cider, bringing it close with both hands and inhaling the steam. You would definitely have to get Gabriel to teach you how to make it.

“Mm, think I could get distracted, too,” Gabriel teased almost nonchalantly while sitting beside you. “Handsome man like you deserves all the attention in the world.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled brightly, all the same, unsure if it was the heat of your drink or the compliment that had your cheeks warming up more.

Your gaze darted back to the window, only to remain focused there as the first drops of rain began to fall. You could see them out in the distance, could see the grass and leaves shimmy and shake as they were hit with fat drops of water in sparse sprinkles. A few hit the overhead windowpane, and then even more began to fall. Before long, the patter of the downfall could be heard from the open windows, growing slowly harder as the downpour became more intense.

Without realizing it, you had moved closer to Gabriel, cozying up close and leaning against him with a sigh. He wrapped one arm around you while the other was propped up on his raised knee, hand carefully holding his mug as he watched the rainfall outside. It was peaceful and intimate, this moment in time, and you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Gabriel’s gaze turned to you, and it was then that you realized you hadn’t been watching the rain for some time. He smiled sweetly down at you, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, free hand coming up to thread through your hair. His lips were warm from the cider.

“Got something on your mind, sweetness?”

It was your turn to smile affectionately, turning to press a quick kiss into his wrist. “No, just…happy to be here, you know?”

Gabriel chuckled.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!
> 
> As always, see ya in the next chapter!


End file.
